


what I do (for better or worse)

by syniaie



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Denial of Feelings, F/F, Gen, Mentorship, Mild Language, Pining, Time Skips
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:02:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27692498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/syniaie/pseuds/syniaie
Summary: Aranea goes into the endless darkness alone, but she doesn't stay that way.Written for the FFXV Rarepair Big Bang 2020.
Relationships: Cindy Aurum/Aranea Highwind
Kudos: 2
Collections: FFXV Rarepair Big Bang 2020





	1. found (in the darkest of woods)

The night was oppressive.

Aranea squinted, spear clutched tightly in one hand as she cautiously made her way forward. The woods of Duscae were thick - an easy hiding spot for the daemons she knew lurked around any and every corner. The Myrlwoods had never been safe, but the Endless Night had ensured that nobody would step foot in it again. Besides her, of course.

Aranea signed up with the hunters (the thought of being tethered to  _ another _ organization made her sick, but at this point it was join up or die) a few months earlier after taking the three miserable sods back to Lucis, and this was her first solo mission. They had been reluctant to send anyone alone, but she had more than proved her proficiency in slaying daemons. And so they agreed, but she knew better: this was a test of her will and physical strength. They could well be sending her off because of her inability to perform well in a team, seeing her as a liability instead of an asset.  _ Whatever _ . If they wanted to throw her to the dust, they could damn well try.

Her pace was slow, making note of the terrain as best she could. Aranea had been instructed to ‘check up’ on a small outpost near the edge of the Myrlwood - and the fact that they sent her out with nothing but a map and some curatives made it very apparent how they thought the outpost was holding up. Regardless, she would do her damn mission and she would do it well.

The creak of wood cut through the endless low concerto of daemon snarls, and Aranea glanced towards the origin - up ahead, slightly to the left. If it made a sound like that, of a thick trunk splitting and splintering off into pieces, it was sure to be something big. Fortunately for that bastard, she was planning on saving any tougher fights until  _ after _ she found whatever miserable campsite the hunters told her was just ahead. Although, Aranea couldn’t see any clearing or thinning of the trees yet, which generally meant the outpost was still a ways away.  _ Nothing I can’t handle _ .

Her time was spent weaving through the forest: more a predator than prey, slinking through the brush and occasionally stabbing her way through smaller daemons that were unfortunate enough to cross her path. It was longer than she thought until the trees slowly began to subside, the mark of human ingenuity clear when she spotted the reflection of powerful daemon repelling floodlights dancing on the leaves.  _ Bingo _ .

Astrals knew she could’ve sprinted her way there, but that was a move sure to get her killed by whatever guards the camp may have if not by the daemons. Instead, she took her time, lurking among the treeline and observing as best she could, ears listening for any noises betraying daemons close to her. Thankfully enough, there seemed to be nothing incredibly important to take into account, and she spotted the entrance fairly quickly. With a confident stride, Aranea squared her back and walked straight up to the main gate.

_ No security? Odd _ , she noted as she rattled the chain link fence to alert the residents to her arrival. When nobody came to the gate to let her in, she frowned and quickly scaled the fence, dropping lightly to the other side.

“Is anyone here?” Aranea called, her steps once again slow and measured.  _ Maybe this junkyard has been overrun after all. _

The few buildings were small and of low quality, with rotting wooden roofs and tacky drywall. There didn’t look to be any lights on in any of them - not that they had windows to look into. They were organized carefully around a small plaza that was nothing more than a slab of concrete scattered with dusty footprints and uneven marks.  _ Hasty build, probably one of their crappy attempts at expanding their borders of security. _

“I come from the Hunter’s Guild. I won’t lay a hand on anyone, I promise.” Her voice seemed to echo in the abandoned area, but there was a sigh behind her and she whirled around to point her spear at whoever the hell thought it was a good idea to sneak up on her.

The girl - who could’ve only been 16 at best - yelped, her hands flying up in a gesture of surrender. In the low light seeping over them from the floodlights, her hair looked dark as the sky, eyes equally as dark burning with a mixture of fear and determination. Her skin was streaked with dirt, and her clothes ( _ just a sleeveless shirt and a skirt? What the hell was she thinking!) _ were ragged, but it didn’t seem to hold her down any. Her arms were thin and lanky, and with a quick glance she confirmed her legs were much the same. Not a fighter, then. Distantly, Aranea thought about how she could’ve approached.  _ She must’ve timed her steps with mine. Smart. _

“Who do you think you are, pulling a stunt like that? I could’ve killed you.” The huntress lowered her spear, the girl remaining frozen briefly to make sure she wouldn’t swing the weapon around and catch her off guard. Her brows furrowed as she watched the teen’s mouth press into a thin line.

“I couldn’t be too sure, okay? ...You said you came from the Hunter’s Guild?”

“At least you got something right in that head of yours.”

The girl scowled. “You could’ve just said yes.”

Aranea shrugged, crossing her arms. “Where’s the fun in that? More importantly - who are you, and why the hell are you here alone?”

The teen took a minute to gnaw lightly on her lip before she spoke. “My name’s Iris. And I’m not alone - I’m taking care of someone who got hurt. That and, well, I can’t exactly go anywhere else on my own.”

“Show me who it is you’ve been taking care of.” Aranea uncrossed her arms, rolling the shoulder her pack of supplies rested on. “I might be able to help. Where’s everyone else, and how have you managed to live here alone?”

The girl - Iris - started walking past her with a glance back at the huntress.  _ Can’t fault her for being suspicious. _ “I got… left behind by someone. My big brother. He shoved me on a caravan of hunters that was coming here, and they asked me to help evacuate the place before heading back to Lestallum. One of them tangled with a daemon that was creeping up on the caravan, and I ran to help - but by the time I got him somewhere safe, everyone else had left and took most of the rations with them. I’ve been careful to portion things out to keep us both alive until help came.”

“I see,” Aranea muttered as she was led into one of the buildings - the one to the southwest - and Iris turned on a small lamp nearby, casting the room into an orange glow. Now that she was here, she could hear the thrum of the generator that most likely powered the floodlights running just behind the back wall. The floor was caked in dirt around the entrance, her boots slipping uncomfortably into the odd dips and bumps. Iris pointed, and sure enough, there was a man laid out unconscious on a meager bed of a blanket and some ragged towels for a pillow. Opened cans lay at his feet, neatly stacked and mostly clean. Three unopened ones stood clustered together to the left of his head, while his arm kissed the right wall what must have been uncomfortably. There wasn’t much else besides another blanket folded neatly next to the unopened cans and an empty crate on its side, with the very last of a roll of bandages placed on top of the blanket in an effort to keep it somewhat sterile. 

“I tried my best to keep his wounds clean, but I’m pretty sure they’re infected anyways,” Iris stated, setting the lamp back on the crate. “He’s got a fever and most of the skin around the edges has turned all green and gross. I’ll show you.”

Aranea tightened her lips -  _ the poor man was probably doomed already _ \- but she crouched anyways alongside Iris, watching the girl carefully unravel a thick patch of bandages from the man’s thigh. Sure enough, the skin was swollen and inflamed around the messy wound, the edges a nauseating yellow-green and purple mix. She lightly tested the edge of the wound with a finger, and the man moaned in pain, body sluggishly moving from her touch. The scabbing over it was so thin that it broke slightly just from the poke, blood once again starting to seep out of the wound, albeit slowly. Iris shot Aranea a look.

“...I don’t think I have anything near strong enough to fix anything like that, kid. He’s done for.”

Iris’ hands balled into fists. “You don’t know that. We can’t give up on him!” Her eyes were blazing in the golden light, an almost unearthly amber filled with determination. “He still has a chance!”

Now it was Aranea’s turn to glare. “You’re pretty smart as far as I can tell, but you sure as hell don’t know how to cut your losses. It’s useless at this point. C’mon, I’ll get you out of here.”

“No way. Not without him.”

“Astrals, you’re stubborn. We’re leaving him and getting the fuck out of here, end of story.”

“No! I told you-”

Iris was interrupted by a loud creak as the fence outside shuddered against something large, Aranea cursing under her breath as she snatched up her spear and stood.  _ Maybe I should’ve taken care of that earlier. Too late now. _

“Iris, do you have any weapons?” the huntress barked, striding out of the small building. The girls tagged along just behind her, tense and grabbing at her belt.

“...I have a knife, but it’s not much.”

“Better than nothing,” Aranea muttered, stopping when she saw an iron giant pushing heavily on the fence, the metal wailing as it struggled not to break. She raised her voice and dropped into an offensive stance. “Get ready to defend yourself, kid.”

Behind her, out of her line of sight, Iris nodded sharply, the now characteristic determination sweeping over her face as she pulled her knife from her belt and crouched in an attempt to mimic the huntress. Her teeth grit together fearfully as the metal squealed its death knell and succumbed to the enormous weight, the chain link not just bending but shattering entirely. The iron giant roared and pushed at one of the floodlights, causing it to fall and break beyond repair. Daemons teemed at the treeline, drawn in by the loud noises.

“Ready or not!”

Aranea launched herself at the iron giant, spear pointing forwards and sinking deep into the daemon’s armor. It howled as she wrenched it out only to slash at its arm, slimy purple sludge oozing from the gaping hole in its side. Jumping up with carefully honed strength, she found herself perched upon one broad shoulder, bringing her spear down with crushing power to crumple its head in. She leaped back off as the daemon started to collapse into a pool of goo, already prepared to meet the imp that came flying at her as soon as her feet touched the ground. Her arm moved quickly to impale the little rat and fling the corpse to the side, not hearing the squelch as it hit a tree and began dissolving as well.

To the former mercenary, fighting was almost as much a part of her life as breathing. She flowed through battle with sharp jabs and piercing slashes, quick stabs and brutal power. After a lifetime and more filled with training and fights alike, she had become a weapon - honed to the sharpest edge, sickeningly beautiful in its efficiency. Purple blood splashed over her leg, splattered on her cheek, stuck in her hair, but it meant nothing: as long as the enemy was still standing, her job was not done.

Unfortunately, Iris wasn’t quite the war machine Aranea had become over the years. Not by a long shot.

The huntress cursed when the teen’s scream almost caused her to get sliced by a yojimbo.  _ Fuck, why did I let myself go so far away from her when I knew this would happen? _

Lips tightening, she leaped forward, foot planting directly on the daemon’s head and pushing it over as she launched herself back to where the daemons had most certainly begun to wreck the small outpost. Already most of the buildings were nothing but piles of rubble, thanks to both the daemons’ efforts and shit craftsmanship. She found Iris cornered by an injured hobgoblin, stab wounds glittering sick purple in the half light. There were some good ones, but clearly nothing fatal - another thing Aranea stored away for later. On her way over, she almost managed to slip in a smaller dissolving pile of muck, the dark ooze sticking to her boots.  _ Brat managed to fell at least an imp or two on her own before the hobgoblin. Not as bad as I thought, then. _

Aranea's spear drove clear through the hobgoblin's torso with a cry from the daemon, the corpse crumpling around her weapon and quickly beginning to melt. She heaved the sludge to the side quickly and offered Iris a hand.

"Pretty good for a measly knife, kid, but that won't work for very long. We gotta get outta here."

"Not like I could use it anymore anyways," Iris grumbled, holding up the knife. It's blade had been warped and almost cracked off the handle altogether. "You wouldn't have had to save me if it didn't break. It did pretty well since it's not made for combat, though."

_ How smart is this kid? _ Aranea nodded, crouching down. "Hop on," she muttered, slinging her small pack to the side. 

"On your back? Are you crazy?! And we still haven't gone back-"

"Get on, or we're both dead meat," The huntress snarled. "I only thinned the ranks enough to buy us a little time, now get on!"

Iris huffed but held her tongue, obediently going to cling to her back. Aranea stood quickly, grip on her spear tightening as she used her free arm to support the teen's leg. "Hold on, kid. It's gonna be a bumpy ride."

"I'm ready!" Iris hissed between gritted teeth, casting nervous glances at the approaching daemons. Only one of the floodlights was still working and both the chain link fence and the structures were now almost completely flattened. "Let's go!"

Aranea took off running, the muffled thumps of her boots against the ground lost to the howling cries of the dark beasts. She lashed out with her spear at anything she couldn't dodge quickly, imps and hobgoblins alike piling on the edge of her blade. There was no time to shake off the noxious daemon ooze, so it came with them, a trail of black blood snaking its way at Aranea’s boots as she struggled to keep her balance through the tangling ferns and brush.

Unfortunately, she couldn’t run all the way back to the nearest haven where her supplies were located. It was simply impossible. Instead, Aranea slowed to a brisk walk as soon as the sounds were far enough away, nudging the teen on her back when Iris tried to crane her neck to look into the woods. Her arm and spine hissed in pain, but she ignored them:  _ wouldn’t do the brat any good if I let her down too early and got her killed. _

Iris lightly tapped her neck, causing Aranea to twitch. “What?” she grumbled quietly, tightening her grip on the girl’s leg.

“They’re gone now, and you can’t carry me forever. Let me down.”

“Not yet. There’s still a possibility a couple could be on our trail.”

Iris scowled, slumping forward onto her. Aranea gritted her teeth as she stopped to regain her balance.  _ She knows exactly what she’s doing. _

“Okay, fine. Gimme two minutes to be sure and I’ll let you down.”

“You could just do it now and save yourself some effort.” Astrals above, Aranea wanted to shoot her a look.

“Just shut up and leave it to me. One minute.”

Iris hummed. “...Alright, fair enough.”

Luckily for them, their quiet bickering hadn’t been heard by anything nearby. The next minute was eerily silent besides the sound of Aranea’s boots trampling the underbrush, the forest devoid of life or light.

The huntress almost jumped out of her skin when Iris spoke again. “It’s been a minute, and I can’t hear anything nearby. Let me down!”

“I would appreciate it a lot if you stopped trying to give me a heart attack,” Aranea shot back, although she was already crouching to let the teen climb off her. “Astrals know if I die, you’ll be soon to follow.”

“Maybe you’re right, but you don’t give me enough credit,” Iris replied with a grin, sliding from Aranea’s back until her feet hit the ground. “I could use your spear to stay alive. For a little longer, at least.”

Aranea sighed as she got back up, pulling said spear closer and making a face at the daemon guts now slightly solidified on the head. “Maybe. You used that knife fairly well, but this is a whole different weapon. Now shut it. We can continue this at camp.”

Iris’ only response was a small giggle that she cut off as soon as Aranea glared at her, blinking innocently at the huntress before she turned around and started walking again. 

It wasn’t long before the trees thinned out once again, the blue glow of the haven cutting through the darkness and the trees. The two kept their movements careful, even so close to safety - there was nothing like the bitter disappointment of failing just before making it to the goal, not to mention that dying wasn’t very high on either of their priority lists.

Only when they finally climbed up the edge of the haven and Aranea lit the pre-set fire did Iris speak again. “Okay, but I could snap part of the spear off if I really needed to.”

Aranea snorted, sitting cross legged on the ground in front of the fire. “That thing is made from some of Niflheim’s finest metals, little girl. Even I couldn’t snap it if I tried.”

“You’re from Niflheim?”

“Eh… Not exactly. Worked there for a long time though.”

“Hmm… What if I held it differently? Like, closer to the blade. It’s definitely big enough to pass for a sword.”

Aranea raised an eyebrow. “With an absurdly long hilt?”

“I guess. People make weird weapons all the time. Or at least they used to.” Iris sat with a thump across from Aranea, on the other side of the fire.

“You could say that again. But enough of that conversation. We need to go over some things. You’ll have to stay with me for at least a week as we make our way back to Lestallum, okay? I don’t have enough supplies for two people so we’re going to have to share a lot. You follow my orders without question if you want to stay alive. Got it?”

Iris paused, lightly gnawing on her lip in thought. Aranea wanted to pinch her nose. What was there to think about?

“...What if I don’t want to go back to Lestallum?” Iris asked finally, hunching over her legs. “I know I could be useful somewhere else. An outpost, maybe? I owe it to everyone to help out as much as I can. I don’t want anyone else to get hurt.”

Oh?  _ Most would probably want to hightail it to Lestallum. _ “Then tell me this: what can you do?” Aranea leaned forward, gaze intense as the flames crackled and the heat warped the air near her face. “Nobody wants a kid getting underfoot when they’re trying to save lives. What makes you different?”

“I’m not a kid!” Iris hissed, hugging her knees. Aranea raised an eyebrow, and she sighed.

“I’m really not. I’ve seen a lot more than a normal kid, anyways. And you saw what I can do! I can defend myself pretty well, and I can take care of basic injuries, and I can manage supplies! I wouldn’t get in the way. And if I did… well, I’d leave. I’d rather get eaten by daemons than stop them from saving others.”

Aranea sat back as Iris stared into the fire, not looking up at her rescuer. Her lips were tight and her cheeks were pink with frustration, but that unmistakable gleam was back in her eyes, bright and powerful in its intensity like the flame separating them. Her slightly overgrown nails dug into lanky arms still streaked with dirt, her body tight with emotion and full of energy. Aranea could see her desperation in her every feature: creasing her eyebrows and scrunching her nose, turning the corners of her mouth downwards and making her cheeks dimple. No matter how hard she tried to pretend she was closing herself in, the former mercenary could read her better than a billboard with bold text. It felt… familiar.

It felt like the bite of winter unhindered by measly wooden walls, like the half-packed dirt floor of the abandoned site, like the numbing chill of barely melted snow sliding down her throat. It felt like shaky little fingers, turning blue at the tips, digging for something underneath the permafrost, like the red of blood and the black of smoke and soot and ash dying the snow in a gruesome rainbow, like salty tears and wet snot freezing themselves to her face. But most of all, it felt like the blazing fire lit inside her from sheer force of will, reaching out and consuming her being in a haze of determination to  _ move forward _ and  _ survive _ .

Aranea had been that child once, with the oily hair and ratty clothes and dust smeared on her cheeks with a light in her gut, and maybe that was why she made the choice then and there to help this child grow into someone better than what the ice and ash had made of her.

“You said you could defend yourself, huh? Then get up and show me.” Aranea stood, feeling Iris’ gaze on her, looking down at her. In response, the teen merely blinked at her.

“What?”

Aranea rolled her neck and stretched her shoulder. “We’re sparring.”

“But - I don’t have a weapon!” Iris protested, even as she scrambled to her feet.

“Lesson number one: Sometimes, you don’t need a weapon.” Aranea grinned.

  
  
  
  


“Let’s get to work.”


	2. birth (of something unknown and intangible)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aranea and Iris stop at Hammerhead.

“Watch your step!” Aranea called, Iris adjusting her footstance accordingly before lashing out at the necromancer in front of her with a crack of steel splitting bone. Her greatsword dipped slightly on its way down, skirting the ground and stirring a cloud of dust as she used the momentum to turn quickly and slash again at the daemon. It flinched away from her with a shriek, black blood spraying from its wounds. Iris heaved the blade up into a defensive stance and glanced back towards her mentor.

Aranea ducked under the mindflayer’s swipe and brought her spear up from her side to pierce through the bottom of its skull, slicing and pinning a few of its smaller tentacles as she forced the head of her spear up and through its head. The mindflayer died with an eerie wail, collapsing into a heap as the huntress pushed the corpse from her weapon with a single kick. She caught Iris’ glance and snarled.

“Finish it already! The faster you kill something, the more time you’ve got to prepare for the next one!”

“I’m trying!” Iris grunted as her sword caught the brunt of a spell. Her eyes caught her reflection briefly in the bright steel, amber fury glowing back at her against the dark blood on her cheek and blade. “Didn’t get close enough to make it fatal - shit!”

The necromancer followed the spell with a forceful physical attack that clanged against her blade and made her boots slip slightly in the dust. She pushed back as hard as she could, sending it reeling briefly, before twisting the greatsword to the side and running the daemon through with it. It coughed black ooze onto her face before melting on her blade, Iris hissing as she let go of the sword with one hand to rub the blood from her face.

“Not bad, kid,” Aranea commented behind her. “But you’ve really gotta work on your precision and mid-combat adjustments. Next time, you’ll be dead before the daemon can get off another spell.”

Iris let out a loud sigh, letting her blade slump to the ground. Her eyes were slightly watery from the sting of daemon blood and there was a cut along her right forearm, but her gaze was determined as ever. “Yeah, I know. Thought I’d try to estimate a little differently to see if it would work better. Guess it didn’t.”

“That's for sure.” Aranea slid a raggedy pack from her shoulders and tossed it at Iris, who caught it with a bit of fumbling. “Get yourself a potion and we’ll make our way back to home base.”

Obediently, Iris reached inside the pack, balancing her sword’s hilt on her hip and frowning when her hand only bumped into two cool cylinders before snatching one for her use. It crackled into fine green mist when she squeezed it, the healing energy sending a clean, bright tingle through her veins as it knit her flesh back together.

“We’re low on potions,” Iris observed, taking a peek inside the satchel to ensure she was correct. “I don’t think we have any more at camp… Or at least there weren’t any extra when I last checked.”

Aranea pursed her lips. “...You might be right. If it was just me, I’d set it off another week, but since you’re here… We should stop for an emergency refill.”

“Stop talking about me like you don’t want me around!” Iris complained, throwing the pack back with one hand before grabbing her sword once more. “You’re the one who said you’d teach me!”

As the younger huntress slid the sword onto her back with some effort, Aranea merely turned around. Iris was right, though, and she didn’t regret it in the slightest - taking a student had been the best decision she’d made in quite a while. It was hard to believe it had been a year, with the sky just as dark as that day they met, but Iris had very much grown in both body and spirit. She was at least three inches taller than she used to be (not that anyone was counting, Aranea wouldn’t know) and had gained muscle quickly despite the harsh conditions. She was more proficient in combat than anyone had predicted, and although she had more to learn, she was well on her way with a good foundation to build off of.

Aranea had also originally disapproved of Iris’ choice in weapon, but she adapted so easily to it that her mentor was forced to accept it. Figuring out how to adjust her training was hard, but worth it in the end. Iris had matured, she found, but somehow Aranea was always able to draw out that childish spark within her.

“Hmph. I think I’d be better off without you.”

“Even when you got slashed across the face and were practically choking on blood afterwards?” Iris pointed out. “I’d say I was pretty useful when I wiped your face off. You’re not dead  _ and _ you have a cool scar thanks to me!”

It was true - some months ago, Aranea had earned herself a jagged scar that stretched from the bridge of the left side of her nose down to her jaw. Was it cool?  _ Maybe _ . Did it suck ass to get?  _ For sure _ .

“I might not’ve been there if you weren’t with me,” Aranea retorted. “But… Maybe you can be useful. Sometimes.”

The older huntress smiled to herself as Iris cheered behind her back.  _ Even after all this time, she relishes in the small victories _ . “Come on. We’re in northeastern Leide, so the nearest outpost should be… Hammerhead, I think it was called. Let’s get our stuff packed and get moving.”

“On it!” The younger chirped, trailing behind her like a duckling following its mother.

Iris instinctively fell silent as something howled in the distance, her senses having been exercised along with her body.  _ Half the battle is understanding what’s going on around you, _ Aranea had said, and she was proud to see Iris taking it seriously. 

It was a long walk back to the haven, and the two allotted themselves a couple of minutes of rest while safety was still available.

“Are you going to take up that assignment about protecting a couple food shipments?” Iris asked, laying flat on her back against the cool stone of the haven. “I saw it in your itinerary.”

“You have no business snooping around mine when you have your own.”

“That’s no fair, mine’s only got low level missions since I’m not old enough yet. But I can handle it! And I don’t look  _ every _ time we go to Meldacio. Just… sometimes, when I wonder what we’re gonna do next.”

Technically, Iris had turned seventeen over the past year, her birthday buried under a long stakeout mission in west Cleigne. Neither of them had time to celebrate, but Aranea had gotten her a gift - a set of dog tags, a full year ahead of when she was to be assigned a pair. Times were getting more desperate by the day, yet the Hunters still tried to cling to their rules.

Iris slid said dog tags from the bulky collar of her tightly woven secondhand shirt to stare at the tags, twisting them slightly so her name caught the haven’s blue glow. A slightly larger couerl fang rested still against her chest, held on the same chain as her tags. She admired the glimmer of the dull metal, the simplicity: it had Aranea’s handiwork all over it.

“...I don’t know why they don’t just give me a full hunter rank yet,” Iris murmured, thumb sliding over the uniform engravings. “I’ve proved myself so many times. They’re just holding me back at this point.”

“They’re right to limit you,” Aranea answered from where she had begun packing their small camping setup. “You’re the most hotheaded brat I’ve ever met, and I bet you’d get yourself into hot water within your first few missions. Do I think they do it too much? Yeah, but I’m pretty sure a lot of people would prefer you alive over dead.”

“Hey!” Iris protested, sitting up. “I’m not that dumb. I can pace myself.”

Aranea snorted. “Says the one who wanted to fight a Naga two days after getting herself a weapon.”

Iris scowled. “That doesn’t count. It was over a year ago!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Aranea drawled, hiding her smile in the poles of their tent. “Tie that rat’s nest back up and get started on packing.”

Iris rolled her eyes as she slid a worn hair tie from her wrist, pulling her hair up into a messy ponytail and pushing her sleeves up.  _ One hair in your mouth or eye can be your death. _

With both of them working together, the camp came down fast, and once again they set off across the desert.

“Looks like Hammerhead’s a straight shot to the northeast,” Aranea murmured, folding the map back up and tucking it securely into her back pocket.

"Really? Sounds almost too good to be true."

"Just means we'll have to be extra vigilant. Lights off, ears up. Nothing's easy these days."

"Got it."

The journey wasn't long, but it did include quite a few pockets of daemons. Thankfully, none of them had anything that couldn't be taken care of within a few minutes. It was only two hours before the shine of floodlights crowned the horizon, and three hours until they made it to the barricaded gates.

Waving up to the guards posted on the barricade got them ushered into a small side door, slipping through the brief opening before it was shut and bolted closed once more.

"Been busy around here?" Aranea asked the guard pushing a crate in front of the hidden doorway. He waited for the thump of the handle hitting wood before replying.

"Very. Apparently shit in this area is getting really tough, cause we've gotten an increase in traffic. Most of 'em are injured, looking for safety and treatment."

Aranea frowned. "Damn. Maybe I should scout a little more north after getting a supply refill. Know who's in charge?"

The guard slid a large metal panel back into place over the side of the door. "Gal named Cindy. She's the owner of this place, technically. She's also the resident doctor, so it might take you a while to get to her. Said somethin' 'bout a supply refill?"

"That's why we're here," Aranea confirmed. "Assuming all the potions are with her?"

"Should be. I gotta get back to my post, ask around if you have any more questions." He waved both of them off before picking his rifle back up and walking away.

"...Will we have to stay the night?" Iris asked. "If Cindy isn't available, I mean."

"Nope. We either get a refill or hitch it to the nearest haven. I'm not wasting any gil on a shitty bed when it could be the difference between starving for a night and being fed."

"Fair enough," Iris observed. "Looks like they could use the gil here, though."

From where they entered in the side, things were a mess: crates of supplies and weapons stacked along the sides, wires running between the two buildings making up the majority of the area, and paint chipped all over the place. The garage had been closed, and judging by the sloppily painted plus on the ridged metal, it was currently serving as a makeshift hospital. The restaurant, meanwhile, looked half battered down, with boarded up windows but an open door with a warm glow coming from inside.

"A lot of places could. C'mon, let's go see if we can find someone who will help us."

They ended up wandering towards the garage, Aranea knocking firmly on the side door. Iris slouched against the wall when nobody responded, Aranea knocking again with a heavy hand. Finally, the knob turned, and the door opened.

Aranea was shocked to freezing by a set of bright blue eyes, framed by a soft face with rosy cheeks and sweet looking lips. Tight golden curls, glinting in the harsh glow of the floodlights, poked free of a worn red cap. A short yellow jacket, unzipped completely, covered her arms but not her torso, instead exposing a skimpy pink bikini top. She had on the shortest goddamn shorts she’d ever seen, contrasting the long rubber gloves pulled up over her jacket’s sleeves and the blood splattered across them. In one hand, she clutched a pair of smudged goggles and a worn, dirty surgical mask.

“I’m real sorry, but I’m a lil’ busy right about now,” she offered with an apologetic smile. “I’ll come and help y’all out as soon as I can, alright? Thanks!” She didn’t wait for a response before closing the door again in their faces, the telltale muffled click of a lock turning into place sounding on the other side of the door.

Aranea didn’t move. She  _ couldn’t _ . Yeah, the woman had been grubby and probably had her hands in who knows how many people’s guts, but  _ Astrals above _ . She was sure it was impossible not to be attracted to the lady. The kindness and genuine regret in her smile, the way she slammed the door without a thought, the way sweat shimmered on her brow… Whoever that was worked hard and passionately, and the dragoon struggled to admit that wasn’t the sexiest thing she’d ever seen. And that wasn’t even counting her magnificent body! Aranea had never been burdened by her sexual preferences before, but now she couldn’t even muster up the brain power to cuss her body out.  _ Holy shit, I’m SUCH a lesbian. _

“Nea? Neeeeea?” Iris cooed, grinning as she waved her hand back and forth in front of her master’s vision. “Everything okay in there? Does somebody have a cruuuush?”

“I - Iris! Cut it out!” Aranea barked, eyes coming back into focus as Iris’ worn palm passed by her nose again. “And shut up! It’s not even possible to have a crush on someone you saw for two seconds." _ Right? _

“Oh my god!” Iris squealed, grabbing for her dog tags in excitement. “You didn’t deny it! You do have a crush!”

“Didn’t I tell you to shut up?” Aranea hissed back, cheeks turning slight pink. She strode away from the door, leaving Iris to follow on her heels. “We’re not going to be getting our potions yet, so we might as well sit out here and wait. While we do, you’re going to go over some weapon cleaning tips I taught you. Got it?”

“Someone’s embarrassed!” Iris sang. “You’re almost as... bad as…”

She paused, joyful attitude quickly souring. Her brows furrowed and her eyes shut. “...as Gladdy was.”

Aranea’s lips thinned. It’d been more than a year, and still Iris couldn’t talk about her brother without getting emotional. She’d only seen him a scant few times, but whatever miniscule respect she once had for him and been obliterated when she saw how deeply Iris had been hurt by him. To hurt someone who relied on you so heavily, nevermind a child… It was unacceptable.

“Chin up,” She ordered as she sat against the back wall of the restaurant, Iris quickly obeying. “Remember what I said? Pull your sword out and show me your maintenance skills.” Aranea hoped her voice didn’t crack.

Wordlessly, Iris pulled the greatsword from its sheath on her back and placed it across her folded knees, slinging the thick fabric pouch she used as a scabbard over on top of it to dig around for her whetstone and cleaning rag. It was quiet between them as Iris slowly and steadily went through her maintenance routine, Aranea only half watching her between eyeing the door and trying to read Iris’ mood. Thankfully, by the time the greatsword was cleaned and sharpened, the young huntress’ shoulders had untensed considerably and her eyes had lost the distant heartbreak and worry that tended to linger there when her brother was brought up.

“Do you know why I decided to carry a greatsword?” Iris asked suddenly. “It’s because - all my life, I was taught the importance of the Amicitia name. I watched Gladdy go through training that gave me nightmares, I watched him tag along with Prince Noctis even though he really didn’t like it, and I saw all the privileges he got from his position. Everyone always looked at us with respect, but I felt uncomfortable - why did Gladdy get to earn his family name, but not me? I wanted to be an Amicitia, too. Sure, it’s… technically my last name, but I just… didn’t deserve it. I wanted to protect, too. Follow in the footsteps laid out by my ancestors and shield the hearts of Lucis.”

She ran a hand through her hair, pulling out the hair tie and sliding it onto her wrist. “But Dad… Dad said I couldn’t. Dad said we already had a Shield, and I didn’t need to be one. But he didn’t understand! I wanted it so badly like nothing I’ve ever wanted before, but Dad was too protective of me and didn’t know me well enough since he was never home. Mom died giving birth to me and Gladdy said Dad started working harder after that, so I never really got to experience having a real dad. But now… I know myself more than he ever knew me, and now I know I’m needed by all of Lucis. Dad was wrong. The world does need another Shield, and I’m going to earn my heritage and protect Lucis’ people with every fiber of my fucking body!”

Iris’ eyes were wild, her inner fire burning out of control, face twisted in an expression so fierce it was almost anger. Her mouth hardened into a thin line as weariness crawled over her features. “I can only hope… that Dad would be proud of me.”

It was silent for a long moment, Aranea staring at Iris while the teen ducked her head to stare at her blade. She was startled by a hand on her shoulder and looked up.

“You don’t need to prove anything to anyone, kid,” Aranea murmured, expression oddly vulnerable. “You may be from a big fancy family, but don’t forget you’re more than your heritage and the shit that comes with it. I’m not gonna stop you, and I think it’s noble of you to want to save people, but know that you’re more than a stupid name. To me and everyone you love, you’re  _ Iris _ , and you’re perfect just the way you are. ...Even if you’ve got some growing up to do still.”

Iris made a small, choked noise, unable to hold Aranea’s gaze. Instead, tears started slowly dribbling down her cheeks, sliding to her nose and dripping off onto her sword when she hid her face behind long, dark locks.

_ Shit. I’m no good at this. _ “Put your sword to the side, Iris,” The huntress commanded gently, the teen haphazardly sliding her greatsword into the dust. When it was out of reach, she pulled Iris to her, holding her tightly as she began to shake and sob against her body. Aranea closed her eyes, one hand lightly stroking over her tangled hair.  _ It’s okay, _ she wanted to say, but her throat was too tight to speak.  _ I’m here for you now, even if nobody else is. _

It was a solid few minutes before Iris calmed down enough to pull away, sniffling and rubbing the sticky tear trails from her pink cheeks. Her eyes were red and still glistened with moisture, but when she spoke, her voice didn’t sound too ragged. “Thanks.”

_ No thanks needed. I know what it’s like to hurt. _ “It’s nothing. Clean your sword back up and put it away.”

Iris obeyed quietly, the silence between them far less wrought with tension than before. Again, she cleaned her greatsword, inspecting the edges of the blade in the (unlikely) case she had missed any dulled spots. It was when she settled her fabric satchel and greatsword over her back that the door to the garage finally opened.

“You two still out here?” The woman called, goggles set over her eyes and mask pulled down to hang loosely around her neck. “I’ve got a few minutes to spare now, if y’all need something.”

Iris was the one to rise first, heaving herself quickly off of the ground and stumbling slightly when the weight of her greatsword disagreed with her speed. “We’re right here!” She called, turning to help Aranea up even though her mentor glared at her for it. “Be there in just a second?”

The woman hummed, sliding the long rubber gloves from her hands expertly. “Hurry up now, I ain’t got much time.”

Both of them hurried forward, Iris taking the lead instinctively. “We need more potions,” She explained, tugging at the bag on Aranea’s shoulder. “We only have one more left and hoped we could get a couple more here. We’re hunters, by the way!”

The woman laughed at Iris’ proud grin, not mentioning the ruddiness of her cheeks or the slight raspiness of her voice. “I figured, from them weapons you got there. I’ll go grab a couple and I’ll be right back, okay?” She vanished without another word, leaving the door open. 

Iris leaned forward to peek through the doorway, curiosity getting the better of her, before Aranea stopped her with a hand on her shoulder and a warning glare. The stench of death and sickness was starting to waft out into the open air, carrying with it memories of horrific wounds and dying words from bloody tongues.  _ She doesn’t need to see that. Not yet. _

Thankfully, it was indeed only a few moments before the woman showed up again, arms full of potions and goggles settled around her neck with the mask.

“I managed to get y’all seven potions. That should be more than enough - if you’re good hunters, that is.” She winked.

Iris nearly bounced on her toes. Aranea had handed her their supply pack. “Thanks a lot, miss!” She chirped, holding out the near empty bag like a kid asking for candy on Halloween. “Nea always says it’s better to have something just in case than be caught without it.”

The woman cast a glance at Aranea, a twinkle in her eye. Aranea swallowed.

“Why don’t you two introduce yourselves?” She asked, carefully maneuvering her arms to place the potions one at a time into the bag. “I like ta know everyone who comes ‘round these parts.”

“I’m Iris,” beamed the young huntress. “And this is-”

“Aranea,” her mentor interrupted, watching the woman settle the last of the potions into the pack. “And you are?”

“I’m Cindy,” The woman offered with a smile as warm and inviting as gold silk. “May have heard I run the place from some of the folks walkin’ about? My Pawpaw is the real owner of the place, but he’s even busier fixin’ up weapons than I am tryin’ to fix up the people that come with ‘em.”

_ Cindy _ . Aranea had thought nothing of the name when the guard said it, but now it felt like something heavy and sweet upon her tongue.  _ Cindy. It feels good to say. _

“Well,  _ Cindy _ , don’t expect us around here too often,” Aranea muttered, crossing her arms.  _ Keep it together. _ “We get assignments from all over Lucis and only rarely stop at outposts. It’s a fluke we had to come here in the first place.”

“A fluke, huh? Happens to everyone sometimes. Either way, you’re welcome here if ya ever need a place to rest. Just try not to come here in pieces, ya hear?” She winked.

Aranea felt her cheeks turn pink but stifled the curse that threatened to burst from her lips.  _ It’s okay. We’re almost done here. We’ll be gone soon, and then I never have to see that beautiful face again. _

“Anyways, I gotta get back to work. Good luck out there!” With that, Cindy closed the door just as abruptly as the first time, Iris offering her cheery goodbye to the door before turning to Aranea.

“You are  _ terrible  _ at flirting. You could at least be nice! Astrals know people like it when others are nice to them.”

“I was  _ not _ flirting!” Aranea snapped, cheeks warming further. “And it doesn’t matter anyways. We’re never going to see her again.”

“Thank the heavens that wasn’t your best attempt, then. It really was that bad, by the way.”

“Shut up!”

Iris laughed as they made their way back to the secret entrance, hailing a guard over to move the barricades before they walked together back into the night.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really sorry to post incomplete, but I've been EXTREMELY busy and stressed lately + found a lot of errors in the other parts when editing, so I'm going to clean those up soon and post those. Kudos to the mods, who have been so patient as my life has come crashing down in flames, and kudos to my amazing artist @okaycookiesart on twitter for bearing with me and creating such a beautiful piece. See you guys soon when I post the rest, and sorry again! ;~;


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